


Old Friends, New Adventures

by weepingnaiad



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Backstory, But hates air cooled balls, Community: jim_and_bones, Gladiators, Guest Stars, Leonard McCoy looks good in a skirt, M/M, Marcos Aguilera played by Channing Tatum, Old Friends, Shore Leave, The Arena, Threesome - M/M/M, Wrestling, no one can resist James T. Kirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Bones are on shore leave enjoying gladiatorial games, when Jim meets an old friend and introduces him to Bones, surprising Bones in all the best ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Friends, New Adventures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sangueuk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangueuk/gifts).



> Unbeta'd Comment flash fic written for sangueuk's birthday. Inspiration provided by lindmere and norfolkdumpling.

The combatants took their bows and Leonard shifted again. The skirt was a little too ‘airy’ and completely distracting as the environmentals blew wispy puffs of slightly cool air up from the flooring. He could keep his mind off his barely covered balls when Jim was nearby to focus on. With Jim gone to order food and drinks and a lull in the action, Leonard could only think about what he was wearing. His palm rested warm on his exposed thigh as he glanced to the side and took in his profile in the reflective walls. He looked ridiculous. He was a doctor, not Caesar, dammit!

The amphitheater was not Coliseum huge, but was still surprisingly full of patrons, most in the open stands protected from the heat of the dual suns by a translucent dome. Leonard and a few of the more well-heeled were settled in private boxes behind concealing screens, with wide fainting couches, cushioned benches and a wall of vid units to capture the action up close and from every angle. When the combatants were naked Andorians, the vids had provided more details about the wrestlers than Leonard wanted to know. But he had found Jim’s intensity, and the way he could name most of the intricate grips and lightning fast moves, strangely arousing. Yet another example of Jim’s genius brain at work. Leonard might think Jim was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, and that mind of his had been the honey that drew Leonard like a bee to nectar, but it was his heart, vulnerable and bruised, that had finally sealed the deal, pushing Leonard that last little bit until he even followed the damned fool into space.

“Hey, Bones!” Jim called out as he burst into their box.

Leonard turned to look at his lover and, despite wanting to grump at being left alone so long, he couldn’t resist the bright smile Jim wore. His eyes were sparkling, mischievous, and Leonard should be worried, that grin promised trouble. But seeing Jim relaxed and tan made Leonard smile, too. The past few days’ explorations of each of the nearby beaches had restored Jim’s color, giving his cheeks a sun-rosy glow that months in space and another brush with death had stolen from him. And somehow the Greek costume, complete with leg greaves, embossed leather skirting and metallic tunic made him look more vital, virile and alive (thank God!).

Before Leonard could answer, Jim was stepping down into the box, a shadow following him. At first, Leonard saw the man as simply a servant, but Jim stopped and turned, dragging the man down the steps with him.

“Look who I found!”

Leonard stood, unsurprised. Jim could come across old friends in a Klingon prison if given half the chance.

“Bones, this is Marcos Aguilera, we were in school together. I taught ‘Mr. Gold Medal’ everything he knows about wrestling.”

Marcos just grinned, but didn’t disagree.

“Marcos, meet Bones… uh, Leonard McCoy, my Chief Medical Officer.” 

The man beside Jim was of a height, but he had sheer mass on Jim, was wider and bulkier; his chiseled jaw softened by a shy smile and light brown eyes. A good looking guy, but he was no match for the force of nature that was Jim Kirk, even with that snug white tee which accentuated wide shoulders, huge biceps and forearms, all those well-defined muscles stretching down to long, long legs…

“Bones?” Jim called.

Caught staring, and Jim’s grin was filthy -- bastard could read Bones’ mind -- Bones flushed, grumbling under his breath, before he took Marcos’ out stretched hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“That’s no mid-plains accent I’m hearing,” Bones replied as they settled down. The servant that had been following bustled around in the corner unobtrusively setting up a small smorgasbord of food and drink before departing. More than Jim and Leonard could hope to consume. He assumed that Marcos’ appetite matched his bulk and he’d be staying.

Marcos shook his head. “I’m originally from Alabama and the drawl never left.”

“That’s how we met,” Jim interjected as he snagged three cold beers from the cool box.

And Marcos laughed at that, his smile still self-conscious. “Yeah, I was a scrawny Southern boy with glasses getting picked on by some older kids and Jimmy came to my defense. He was no bigger than me--”

“But I was a brawler--”

“Even at thirteen,” Marcos agreed.

“Taught you a thing or two…”

“Until that summer…” Marcos’ voice hitched and he stopped, eyes going wide.

Leonard knew what summer, but they never talked about it. Not after the first, and last, time it’d come up back at the Academy.

But Jim was unfazed and continued on brightly as if there wasn’t a deadly year unspoken between them. “Yeah, you shot up, filled out, turned into this bruiser.” His smile, and hand on Marcos’ shoulder, was reassuring.

“And we were never in the same weight class again,” Marcos finished.

“Still aren’t, I’d wager,” Leonard added, his eyes sweeping leisurely over Marcos’ form. He definitely filled out his jeans in all the right ways. “What do you have on Jim, ten? Fifteen kilos?”

Marcos shrugged. “I’ve bulked up a bit for the games here, my medal winning weight was easily fifteen less than now, but that was a struggle to keep up even back in college. Now it’d be impossible.”

“Too much food and drink?” Leonard asked.

“Mostly it’s the demands of the different wrestling styles. Between the speed of the Andorians and the mass of the Cardassians, I have to be stronger than ever.” Marcos grinned, self-conscious, and took a sip of his beer.

Leonard reached out, couldn’t resist touching Marcos’ flexing bicep, all that smooth, tanned skin over vast, hard muscles. Marcos’ eyes met Leonard’s and a jolt ran through him.

“Hey! I’m right here!” Jim leaned forward, those eyes daring Leonard.

He couldn’t resist, kissing the corner of Jim’s smile, his other hand lingering on Jim’s bare forearm.

“As if anyone could ignore you, Jimmy,” Marcos chuckled, breaking the tension.

Leonard found himself smiling and laughing, the contests on the floor of the arena forgotten in favor of tales of their exploits, which more often than not were of Jim dragging them into trouble of one sort or another. But the tension, the attraction, simmered under the surface, crackling along Leonard’s spine whenever one of them would shift, his bare thigh pressing into Jim’s, warm skin and that little prickle of hair starting goosebumps creeping up his spine. Even worse was when Marcos would forget himself and his hand would brush Leonard’s knee. The last time was no accident as that large, warm palm slid along Leonard’s thigh, fingers twitching just under his skirt.

Inhaling sharply, Leonard looked up, was snared by Jim’s knowing smile. His eyes flicked to Marcos, watching as he swallowed nervously. Only Jim was sure of himself in this kind of situation, but then Jim was never outwardly unsure about anything.

So Leonard did what he’d been wanting to almost since Jim returned: he leaned forward and kissed Marcos. His lips were a little dry, but he opened eagerly, tasted of beer with the bite of ginger from some tidbit or other. Leonard surged forward, swept in more deeply, one hand wrapped around a wide bicep, the other holding Marcos in place by the nape of his neck. He was tired of the teasing, the looks, even the way the damned air stroked his cock and balls. Jim pressed against his side, mouth huffing dirty words into his ear as his hands fumbled with the dratted buckles on Leonard’s armor.

They broke apart, gasping, and Marcos stripped off his tee, baring himself to Leonard’s roving eyes.

Leonard moaned, wanted to taste all that flawless skin, but Jim beat him to it, reached out, tugging Marcos close, kissing him with a familiar passion that made Leonard groan. He couldn’t strip himself thanks to the armor, but the skirt was easy access and his aching cock and balls sighed happily when he stepped out of the flimsy linen jock strap.

He watched the two men kiss; hunger flaring as the initial awkwardness fled in the face of Jim’s knowing hands and mouth. Leonard leaned back on his elbows to watch. He reached for, and drained, the nearest beer, eyes eager as they stripped each other, leaving them both in little more than bits of cloth, erections peeking out, making Leonard’s mouth water.

He wasn’t as confident as Jim, needed to take his time to get his nerve up. Plus the show before him was too hot to charge into, guns blazing. Still, he couldn’t resist when Jim held out his hand, tugging him forward. And soon enough he was as bare as they were and all that warm flesh was his to touch and caress.

Marcos’ nipples were sensitive; a tiny nip made his hips jerk. And Jim was enjoying the little mewls he made, if his smug grin was anything to go by.

Leonard couldn’t have that. Not when Jim howled like an alley cat when his nipples were teased. Leonard kissed Marcos, lips dragging over that strong jaw until he sucked in an earlobe. Whispering, Leonard asked, “Need to take my arrogant asshole boyfriend down a notch. You think you can do something about that?”

That seemed to be the only invitation Marcos needed. Jim was quick and wily, but he was no match for a determined Marcos who, admittedly, had a little help. What better way to shut Jim up than feed him Leonard’s cock while Marcos kept him pinned down?

Thank god that the benches and fainting couches interlocked!

Even better than Jim sucking cock, was Jim sucking cock while he was being slowly and methodically tortured by a man who knew just how to keep Jim flat on his back. Watching Marcos work Jim over, feeling how Jim reacted to it was so fucking hot, Leonard was dangerously close to coming before they’d barely begun.

He dragged himself away from Jim’s sweet mouth, gasping raggedly as Marcos did something between Jim’s legs that made him squeak.

And then Leonard had to kiss Marcos again and Jim whined. He did always have to be the center of attention.

Marcos released him and the shared kiss had another set of lips and tongue. Leonard would be lying if he claimed that kissing two men wasn’t awkward. It was. It was also hotter than hell with their cocks brushing, hands reaching, palming handfuls of firm ass as their lips slid wetly.

But Jim had been plotting while he was on his back. He turned the tables and it was Leonard on the bottom swallowing down Marcos’ not insubstantial erection. Of course, he’d choked when Jim casually commented that Marcos was a greedier cock slut than even Leonard. Marcos’ broken whine when Jim shoved in two thickly lubed fingers made Jim’s words believable. Even worse were the sounds Leonard made when Jim did the same to him.

He cursed a blue streak around Marcos’ cock and Jim just laughed at him before kissing Marcos in that way that only Jim could. Claiming, breath stealing, so fucking intense that your head was spinning and all you could do was hang on.

Of course, Jim knew what Leonard was thinking. He always did. And soon enough Jim was kissing Leonard like that. Ferocious and deep. Leonard surged up against him, wrapping around Jim like a Bajoran tree creeper, clinging and arching against him. He’d be embarrassed by the needy noises coming from his lips, but Marcos was no quieter.

And soon enough, Jim’s mouth was free and he was ordering them all about. Leonard on all fours, then Marcos, then Jim. Leonard’s heart stuttered as his pulse raced. He was so fucking turned on, just needed to be filled and Marcos’ shaft was thicker than Jim’s with that little bit of curve that hinted at perfection.

Of course, Jim couldn’t just let them get on with it. He had to orchestrate the whole damned thing.

“Jim! If you don’t shut the fuck up and let Marcos fuck me, I’m hypo’ing your ass and taking what I want!” he growled over his shoulder.

Marcos chuckled, palms on Leonard’s ass, spreading him wide.

“Damn pushy bottom,” Jim grumbled, but suddenly the cool air teasing his hole was replaced with something warm and slick and so goddamned perfect, filling Leonard up in one sure stroke. He could only groan and whimper as that huge cock split him in two and nudged his prostate with every breath.

Then Jim entered Marcos, slamming home in the almost patented Jim Kirk hip shimmy. And sure enough it blew Marcos’ mind like it did Leonard’s. Every damn time.

Jim was still managing them, directing just how Leonard wanted to be touched, how he liked to be filled. And Leonard wanted to argue, wasn’t sure he liked just how well Jim knew him, but the insistent rocking of that cock against his sweet spot combined with Jim’s words and Marcos’ hands caressing him inside and out and he wasn’t complaining.

No, he was howling and Marcos was louder. Grunts and groans, skin slapping, sweat and musk filling the air. It was so damned good and then Leonard got a reach around and he was coming.

“Fuuuuck!” he cried out, body tensing, shuddering, then melting as he shot on the settee, his body quickly turning to rubber, unable to hold the two men above him.

Luckily Marcos was a strong SOB with big hands and strong arms and he held on until he stiffened with a silent cry and Leonard moaned as he was filled.

Marcos was panting and gasping above him, sprawled over Leonard’s back and Jim was still thrusting, but it only took twice more for him to join them in freefall and then Leonard ended up at the bottom of a sweaty puppy pile. A very heavy puppy pile.

“Shit,” he whimpered. “Get off!”

He would have shoved them away, but he couldn’t feel his legs.

“What the hell? I can’t feel my legs!” Leonard patted his thigh harder.

“Ow, dammit, Bones! That’s my leg!” Jim cried.

“Well, go on. Get off.”

Marcos finally slid to the side, sprawling as best he could on the doubled settee, one arm thrown over his eyes. He was silent, merely laying there, panting.

Leonard could relate.

Jim, of course, was now forcing himself between the two men, smug grin on his face. “That was epic!”

Marcos murmured something that sounded suspiciously like, “How the fuck does he do that?”

And Jim laughed, kissing each one of them, in turn. "Because I'm Jim Kirk,” he mouthed against Leonard’s shoulder.

"Smug bastard," Leonard grumbled, but tightened his arms around Jim.


End file.
